Sometimes I hold my squishy nearly 11-month-old tight and smell his sweet baby smell as he wraps his chubby arms around me and I think to myself, I can't believe this is my life. I'm so lucky.
But then sometimes when I go to change my two-year-old princess and she lets one rip as soon as I take the diaper off, I think to myself as the smell of rotten eggs hits my nose, is this seriously my life?
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